point in going on. He felt he had used up his energy. When he walked back to his horse he didn't, for a moment, have the strength to mount.
'Those were Comanches watching us at the lake,' he told Gus. 'I expect they'll find Buffalo Hump and do what's proper.' Famous Shoes knew better. The two Comanches were of the Antelope band, and the Antelopes had always held aloof from the other tribes. Probably the warriors who watched them were too young to have heard of Buffalo Hump-- even if they rode over to look at the body, the deformity would scare them away. When they saw the hump they would think witchery was involved. They would want nothing to do with the old dead man with the ugly hump.
He himself wanted nothing to do with the Antelopes.
Though their country was poor and harsh, they were not broken men. He didn't know why the two warriors were watching the dry lake, but he was glad there were only two. Maybe the rest of the band were hunting somewhere. If more of them had been there they would probably have attacked.
Captain Call and Captain McCrae lingered by their horses; for some reason they were reluctant to mount and ride on, although their quarry, Blue Duck, was not many miles ahead.
The delay broke down Famous Shoes' resolve in regard to the shield. It was an important thing. None of the whites seemed to realize that; none of them had even picked it up, or looked at it. Famous Shoes, though, couldn't take his eyes off it. Even though he knew he should leave it with Buffalo Hump, so that he could use it in battle in the spirit world, Famous Shoes wanted it too much. After all, once they left, no one might ever come near the spot where Buffalo Hump lay. They might be the only ones who would ever look on the body of the old chief. But the animals would look. Wolf would come, and Coyote and Badger and Bobcat.
Buzzards would come, and beetles, to take what they could of old Buffalo Hump. If he left the shield a wolf or a coyote might drag it away. With all the animals that would soon be coming, the shield of Buffalo Hump might soon be lost, and yet it was a shield made by a great chief from a buffalo skull. With the buffalo now almost gone, it might be that no one would ever make such a shield again.
With such thoughts in his mind Famous Shoes soon convinced himself that he should take the shield, though he did not want to step into the death circle to do it.
While the rangers made a careful inspection of their horses' feet--a very wise thing since they had no spare horses--Famous Shoes took a rifle and reached across the black rocks and hooked the shield. He got the rifle barrel inside the rawhide grips that Buffalo Hump had made so that he could hold the shield where he wanted it. Famous Shoes was glad the shield had not been too far inside the circle-- he was just able to reach it with the rifle barrel, and in a moment he had it, the shield of Buffalo Hump, an important and powerful tool of war.
He was just about to take the shield to Deets and ask him to carry it in one of his saddlebags when the first shot came.
'We were too far away--I didn't get no chance to sight this gun,' Blue Duck said, in annoyance, when he saw that his first shot from the big buffalo rifle had only hit Captain Call in the foot. At least that was how it appeared. The man held up one leg and hopped behind the horses.
Ermoke was annoyed too. He had wanted to be the one to shoot the big gun. He considered himself a far better shot than Blue Duck, particularly at long distances, and in this case the distance was long. They had made sure to ride well beyond the range of the Texans' Winchesters before they pulled up and unstrapped the big buffalo gun. There was a little growth of yucca where they stopped, the only cover in sight, but all they needed. With the big gun they could relax and pick off the Texans one by one--only now Blue Duck had spoiled the whole plan by shooting low.
Blue Duck quickly drew a bead on Ranger McCrae but missed again, though the bullet did knock one of the four horses down.
He was aware that Ermoke was looking at him critically--Ermoke was vain about his marksmanship, particularly if the distances were long. He had once killed an antelope with a Winchester at a distance of almost a thousand yards, and had never ceased to brag about the exploit.
Even though he had now missed twice, Blue Duck didn't yield the gun. It was his gun, for one thing. He had run the frightened buffalo hunter to earth, and it had been no easy chase.
The hunter had three guns and had emptied them all at him during the long pursuit.
He might even have escaped had his horse not stepped in a prairie-dog hole. In the fall the buffalo hunter broke his neck. He was paralyzed when Blue Duck walked up and cut his throat. The pursuit had taken all day, and the hunter had no money, only a worthless tin watch and his guns.
Blue Duck had meant to practice a little with the big rifle, but Last Horse had arrived unexpectedly, before he got around to it. He had never shot such a powerful rifle before; now, with the rangers in easy killing distance, he was vexed to find that the weapon shot low. He had missed a clean shot at Call and an even better one at McCrae. Now the rangers were on their bellies in the grass, hard to see. Ermoke clearly wanted a chance to shoot, but Blue Duck didn't give it to him. Instead he shot another of the rangers' horses, even as the black man was trying to hurry them out of range.
'I guess that will stop them,' he said. 'Two of their horses are down and Call's shot in the leg. They'll starve anyway. Let's go. We won't have to be in such a damn hurry now.' 'Monkey's sick--he's shitting white shit,' Ermoke observed. He saw that Blue Duck was angry, so he did not ask if he could shoot the buffalo gun. If he asked, Blue Duck might turn the gun on him, as he had on the Comanche who came to tell him about Buffalo Hump.
'What about Monkey?' Ermoke asked, when he saw Blue Duck mount up.
Blue Duck glanced at the stumpy man, who was a few yards away, squatting with his pants down, looking miserable.
'Monkey? He can come or he can stay,' Blue Duck said. 'I guess our fine waters don't agree with him. You can wait for him, if you like. I doubt I ought to be associating with a man who shits white shit, anyway.'
The first bullet knocked Call a foot in the air. Immediately, he lost all feeling in his left leg, but he pulled himself around behind his horse; then the second bullet knocked the horse down on top of him, or almost. Pea and Augustus pulled him out from under the horse, which was kicking wildly. A third shot hit Pea's horse and killed it.
'Run with the other horses!' Call yelled to Deets. 'If you don't he's going to put us all afoot.' Deets needed no urging. He was already running south, with his brown mule and the other, uninjured, horse. There were four more booms from the big rifle, but Deets was soon out of range and the other men had their faces flat in the dirt. The bullets merely kicked up dirt. The rifleman stopped firing, since he had stopped hitting, but the three rangers kept
